Vulcan Pages: Excerpts from the Diary of T'Beth
by M C Pehrson
Summary: Story #13 T'Beth's efforts to adjust to life on Vulcan are complicated by Spock's death and his subsequent refusion.


Springtime on Vulcan

29 Matara

It's so hard to hold my feelings in—sometimes I think I'll burst. The simple lessons I receive in mental discipline help a little, and I do try to meditate, but I need something more. I need someplace to write down what's happening around me and what's happening inside me. I don't know why I never thought of this before. Although I never knew my mother, she kept a diary, too. I have it. And now I dedicate this journal to that golden lady—to Adrianna Lemoine.

So here I am on Vulcan, living with my grandparents because my father can't take care of me. He's captain of the starship Enterprise. And speaking of the Enterprise, today I got a subspace greeting from Doctor McCoy. It's always great to hear from him. Other people might call "Bones" cantankerous, but he's really just an old softie—to me, anyway.

The biggest surprise of the day was a short little message from Jim Kirk. He's no longer aboard the Enterprise, but back on Earth "flying a desk", as he puts it. My relationship with the admiral has seldom been smooth. He never tires of telling me to "be good". It makes me wonder if he knows about my mother's bloodline and what it might mean as I get older.

31 Matara

I'm really looking forward to our yearly migration to the Northern Encampment, where we go to escape the summer heat. Gram says that Father always liked going to Pashir when he was a boy. I bet it's because there were less children there, less chance of being taunted because he was different. When he wasn't studying he could wander around and explore the countryside in peace.

35 Matara

Sarek has returned from yet another diplomatic mission. Tomorrow we'll join him in welcoming the new ambassador from Earth, Douglas Perlman, along with his wife and family. I hate these dull official functions, but it will be kind of nice seeing some more humans again.

36 Matara

To think that I dreaded going! Those Perlmans are marvelous—all _eight_ of them! Six children in one great big lively family! I can just imagine all those Vulcan eyebrows starting to rise. Isn't it great? I've read about big families like theirs and always secretly longed to be part of one—to love and laugh and squabble and belong to each other completely.

After dark I sat out in the yard and watched old T'Khut raise her massive bulk into the night sky. As always, the sight of Vulcan's sister planet made me shiver. This can be such a strange, harsh place.

40 Matara

I had thought I was welcoming the Perlmans, but they are the ones welcoming me into their lives and their hearts. Mrs. Perlman comes from a family of doctors stretching back four generations. The oldest Perlman daughter is transferring to Vulcan's School of Offworld Medicine. Matt Perlman, the serious one, will soon begin pre-med at age seventeen. Rachel is my age—outgoing, exuberant, impulsive, a breath of fresh air in this stuffy sand-blown wasteland. With the help of a translator device, she will attend school with me.

Gram is glad I've made friends with the family, but I'm not sure if Sarek is pleased. Because of his position, he can't really forbid contact with the Earth ambassador's family. Too bad for him! I intend to enjoy my freedom, and the Perlmans, for as long as I can.

42 Matara

What a joy it is to have Rachel beside me. I was so lonesome before. We do everything together—two misfits in a rigid Vulcan world.

50 Matara

At school there's a Vulcan boy named Stokk. He's the oldest son of a woman named T'Pring, who was once betrothed to my father. Though Stokk and I are close to the same age, like all the Vulcans he is well ahead of me academically. We don't get along.

Today Stokk cornered Rachel and me at school and told her that I'm Krenath and also used the word "bastard". He said that I'm the real reason why T'Pring refused to marry Spock, that Father was a faithless good-for-nothing half-breed. Stokk made me so mad that I wanted to hit him, but Rachel was quicker. She slapped Stokk's face! Of course, when he recovered what was left of his composure, that big tattler reported her "shocking act of violence". Now Rachel must answer to the headmaster.

51 Matara

I stood by Rachel while her father the ambassador pleaded her case, but it was no use. Even my testimony didn't matter. She has been barred from school for the remainder of this trimester.

Stokk's face was a cool mask of triumph. How I hate him! Rachel held her head up high as she left school. She wouldn't give any Vulcans the satisfaction of seeing her true feelings.

I think Sarek is actually pleased by the outcome. Though I asked him to use his influence with the school officials, he only lectured me on Rachel's "lamentably undisciplined behavior". I wonder what he thinks about the mean things Stokk said?

55 Matara

Today Sarek reprimanded me at breakfast. He said he's tired of me talking about Rachel and Stokk. He's tired of my "complaining". Well, I'm tired of him, too.

There was no school today. I spend the day nursing a bad mood. Even Gram left me to myself. Toward evening I went into Father's room. It's just the way he left it the last time he was here. Everything very orderly, like him. Very Vulcan. Feeling decidedly sneaky, I opened his closet, pulled down a box, and pried it open. It was full of personal items, weird gadgets, all sort of strange things packed away with obvious care. Inside a second box I found a few mementos from Starfleet Academy, including a funny-looking gray hat. It's big, but I put it on. Then I sat down at his old computer. It's a real museum piece, one of the early duotronics. Rummaging through the desk drawers, I found some copies of declassified video log disks. I can't describe how I felt when I slipped it into the computer and watched a bridge scene unfold. The time-mark said Enterprise, but it didn't look like the ship I knew— _or_ the Spock. This intense young lieutenant seemed very different from my coolly self-assured father. His captain's name was Pike. There was a tense situation on the bridge that day. Maybe Father was trying too hard, but he bungled. I could barely believe my eyes. The other disks, stardated in chronological order, showed more goofs—surely some of the low points of his Starfleet career. I couldn't imagine why he'd want to keep these reminders of them, but seeing him foul up made him seem so much more human.

Then the bedroom door opened, shattering my mood. I looked up and found Sarek standing there. I felt very small as my imperious grandfather towered over me. He didn't have to say anything. I was guilty, alright. This was Father's room and these were his private belongings. Snatching the hat off my head, I stammered out an apology for this latest wickedness.

"Child." Sarek's voice was stern. "You miss your father and feel a need to be near him. That is understandable. However—" His gaze traveled over the room and the open boxes with their curious contents. "Put everything back in order and get out."

I did as I was told.

63 Matara

Risking Sarek's wrath, I sneaked the Academy hat into my room. With the door closed, I pretended it was mine—that I was a cadet in San Francisco, where Father teaches when he's not conducting training missions. I made believe we were together, and he was so understanding that I even told him what I've kept even from the pages of this diary until now.

Something has happened. Something splendid, scary, and wonderful. I've fallen in love!

71 Matara

 _He_ was there. It was Rachel's fifteenth birthday party, a regular human celebration at her house. Perlman's everywhere. Chocolate cake and vanilla ice cream and warm brown eyes that melted my insides.

Tonight he looked at me, _really_ looked. I felt almost dizzy with happiness. It was partly the sweets, I suppose, though I was careful not to eat too much. The older I get, the more of an effect sugar seems to have on my Vulcan blood. I hope I didn't act silly.

75 Matara

I'm afraid my studies have slipped. All I can think about is him. The crooked way he smiles, the sound of his laughter, the twinkle in his dark eyes.

79 Matara

Subspace messages came today. Father sent "fond greetings". He's still dividing his time between training missions and teaching at the Academy. He urges obedience to my grandparents, "prudence", and "application" to my studies.

Now all I need is Admiral Kirk telling me to "be good"!

83 Matara

Okay, I'll say it. I'll finally say his name. I love Matt Perlman—and now he loves me! Today this quiet dreamer admitted his feelings and sealed it with a shy little kiss. Poor Matt. His family is pressuring him to be a doctor, but his real interest is in drama. On Earth he has a cousin who's a professional actor. Someday he hopes to be like him, but there's no chance of that happening here on Vulcan.

Summer

4 Belaar

Finish of the school trimester. Northern Encampment at last! The intense heat has also driven the Perlmans to Pashir. I look forward to spending lots of time with Matt—the days won't be nearly long enough. If only we didn't have to keep our feelings secret. Why do I have to be so young? Still only thirteen. Gram would never approve, I know it. And sober-sides Sarek? He can't _ever_ find out, or it's over. Luckily for me, Grandfather has stayed near the capital because of his work.

13 Belaar

There's a cave in the hills above the fig orchard, just inside the safebelt. At least once a day Matt and I try to meet there. I'm afraid of what Father would think if this ever comes out. Though Father has never spoken of certain things about my mother, things that aren't even in her diary, I know about them. I won't say how I know and I won't say what those things are, either—just in case someone else reads this. But no matter what happens, no matter what anyone says—I won't give up Matt, not ever.

27 Belaar

I had hoped nothing would spoil this beautiful summer, but now T'Pring has come north. And of course, Stokk is with her. It seems now that wherever I go, there's Stokk, his narrowed eyes watching my every move. And it's the same for Rachel. Obviously he had not forgotten the sting of her hand.

Matt knows about Stokk and his sneaky ways. "Be careful," I told him. I don't want any trouble.

32 Belaar

The situation is getting worse. Stokk suspects us, I'm sure of it. I can see the tension and hostility building between him and Matt. This can't go on. Matt won't listen to my warnings, and I'm starting to be afraid.

33 Belaar

I've asked Gram if I can go visit Great Uncle Sparn in Kareel—that's how desperate I've become. I don't want to leave Matt, but if I stay here something bad is going to happen. "Tell me what's wrong," Gram asked, but I couldn't. Then she said, "I've heard from your father. Why haven't you been answering his messages?" She suggested that showing Father respect would put my time to better use than any trip to Kareel.

So I'm staying. "We can't meet anymore," I told Matt, but he got angry and said, "Because of that Vulcan toad?" He thinks he can handle Stokk. He doesn't understand how it is here on Vulcan.

38 Belaar

Back when I was eleven, I got into big trouble with Admiral Kirk and he spanked me. I don't know how Father knew something was going on, but he walked in on us and told me to wait for him in his cabin. When he came for me I was expecting to get it from him, too. But no. He never laid a hand on me. He just talked. Maybe I should have paid more attention to what Father tried to tell me that day. Maybe I should have listened to Kirk's constant "be good".

But this time I tried to do the right thing—I really _did_ try. And have I really done anything so terrible?

Stokk found us in the cave. He probably would have crept away unnoticed, but the fool tripped. Alerted by the sound, Matt discovered Stokk and charged after him. I didn't know Stokk could run so fast, but somehow Matt managed to tackle him, and Stokk came up fighting. Matt learned what it means to face a Vulcan, and for a while Stokk also learned a thing or two about angry humans. It was a bloody fight, but of course Stokk finally came out on top. Pinning Matt to the ground, he battered him mercilessly. I was so scared. I thought he was going to kill Matt, so I picked up a big rock and brought it down on the Vulcan's head. Stokk slumped into the dirt.

Matt was barely able to limp with me to the encampment. I knew we were in deep trouble now. As Mrs. Perlman treated her son's injuries, we told her about the fight. By then all the Perlmans were swarming around and soon Gram arrived to take me firmly in hand. Afraid of what I might find, I led her and Mrs. Perlman to where Stokk still lay unconscious. A dose of stimulant brought him around. As it turned out, Stokk was too tough to be seriously hurt. And he was too clever to lose such a wonderful opportunity. There on the rugged hillside he provided Gram and Mrs. Perlman with his own expanded version of the events. He made it sound like Matt and I had done a lot more than kiss. Was it karma for the things I once said to Admiral Kirk? That day I'd threatened to make up things about _him_ —ugly things—so that Father would never be his friend again. It's no wonder he walloped me.

Stokk looked at us with cool triumph while we called him a liar. Everyone knows that Vulcans don't lie, right? Gram looked at me and said only two sentences. "You wanted to leave? Well, now you're gotten your wish."

We walked home in dreadful silence. There, I sat on my bed alongside a suitcase, crying hard. When all our bags were packed, we had an unexpected visitor. Great Uncle Sparn stood in the doorway like a pillar of Vulcan outrage. He had transported the moment he heard—from T'Pring, no doubt. She would have wasted no time spreading news of the latest S'chn T'gai scandal.

Gram did not seem surprised to see him. Maybe she'd expected him to try something of the sort. Sparn had come all the way from Tareel to take his brother Sarek's place and lash me for my "disgusting behavior".

Gram stepped in front of me. "I may be human," she told Sparn, "and only a grandmother, but I will deal with my son's daughter, thank you."

Sparn's face went stony. He demanded his right to discipline a child who had so "disgraced the clan". Gram agreed that I had acted wrongfully, but reminded Sparn that very little Vulcan blood flowed in my veins and I had been denied the benefit of early Vulcan training. "Spock left her in my care," she said with finality. "She is my responsibility, not yours." And she offered to reimburse him for the cost of his trip.

I sighed in relief as Sparn stalked away, but Gram turned on me angrily and said, "Don't think for a second that you're escaped punishment. We'll be lucky if T'Pring's family doesn't bring charges."

We rode the transporter home to ShiKahr.

39 Belaar

Today Gram had me go through the whole story again. I answered all of her questions honestly, but she still suspects more, she's still believing Stokk. I got so frustrated that I cried again. I begged her not to tell Father. She said, "Would you rather he heard it from someone else? No, my dear. Spock will be told."

As if that wasn't bad enough, she has laid down a new set of rules. I'm confined to the house. I am absolutely forbidden any contact with the Perlmans. Thankfully Sarek is off-planet, but until he returns I'll receive lessons from Sparn on the teachings of Surak. And hardest of all, I must now compose a message to Father, confessing everything. I'm the one who will tell him, but at least I'll be able to tell the story _my_ way.

45 Belaar

By now Father will have received my message.

Sparn comes every other evening to verse me in logic and self-discipline. He's so stern and demanding, I bet he would just love to crack my knuckles with a ruler. Nothing I do satisfies him.

Twice I've asked Gram if I can talk with Matt over the Vulcan telecom. Each time the answer was a firm no. I miss him terribly and I miss Rachel, too.

46 Belaar

Since I'm stuck in the house, Gram gave me permission to use Father's computer. Quite by accident I've discovered something astonishing. Father hacked into the PCS— planetwide communications! What a gift! I'm really tempted to defy Gram and call Matt Perlman. After all, Father defied the law with his brilliant piece of programming, even if it was only for the challenge. (Or maybe they hired him to test their security?)

48 Belaar

I did it. I called Matt. Gram had braved the early morning heat to go into town, so I was all alone. Unfortunately Mrs. Perlman answered my call. She said, "We agreed, T'Beth, that there would be no further contact between you and Matt. I'm sorry, but I'll have to tell Amanda that you called."

My heart sank and I said, "But how is he? Please, at least tell me that!"

"Matt's fine now," she answered. And broke the connection.

Gram was furious. Doubly furious. Since the call was not listed on her account, she naturally thought I'd snuck out of the house. So (sorry, Father) I showed her your computer hacking. She stared at the screen for a long, nerve-racking moment. Then, without a word, she drew out the computer's energy pack and slipped it into her pocket. And that was the end of that.

60 Belaar

Father's response came today. He said that such "furtive misconduct" is "inexcusable". He reminded me that I am "of the house of Surak and the noble clan of Talek-sen-deen". (I am _so_ tired of hearing that!) He is advising Sarek and Amanda to handle me in the "strictest possible manner". And even though he didn't say it, I bet I know what he's _really_ thinking. That my mother's heritage is coming through—that I deliberately went after Matt and tried to stir up trouble. It made me cry because I don't think he believes me.

75 Belaar

The Perlmans are back in ShiKahr and Rachel came to visit! It was wonderful to see my friend. I couldn't believe Gram allowed it. It made me wonder if she was finally softening—but then Rachel told me sad news. Matt is on a starliner bound for Earth, where he'll live with an uncle while attending school.

Rachel slipped something into my hand—a little yellow computer disk from Matt. I know it's forbidden, but I don't care. I viewed it the first chance I got. Tears streamed down my face as I watched Matt say goodbye. Not to worry, he said, someday everything would work out. We just have to hang onto our dreams.

But what if I never see him again?

77 Belaar

How I had been dreading this day! Grandfather came home. He arrived sooner than I'd expected. My heart froze when he walked in the door and riveted me with those dark, terrible eyes. These were the first words out of his mouth: "Have you any idea what you have done?"

There was such a lump in my throat, I couldn't answer, even if I'd known what to say. If ever I thought he might strike me, it was then, with just the two of us in the main room. But he didn't. In fact, Sarek did nothing at all! There wasn't even a scolding. He just stared at me for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, when I tried to explain, he turned away and left the room.

He had shut me out completely. I'm so miserable. This is the worst punishment of all. Maybe I should be angry, but I don't think Sarek is doing this to hurt me. I think I hurt _him—_ and I guess that's something I care about. Funny that I never saw it before.

78 Belaar

A bleak, quiet day. Sarek still hasn't spoken to me. He acts as if I'm not even here. Gram says he once went eighteen long years without speaking to Father after Spock went against his wishes and joined Starfleet. The thought scares me.

80 Belaar

I gathered all my courage and went to Sarek. He was meditating in his room where I'd been told never to disturb him. Though I was very quiet, Grandfather sensed my presence and opened his eyes.

"I'm sorry," I told him.

Sarek rose and actually looked at me. My heart felt like it was pounding out of my chest. Quickly, before I lost my nerve, I said, "I know I shouldn't have been meeting Matt Perlman in the cave, but we really didn't do anything bad. I'm sorry I knocked out Stokk, but he would have killed Matt. And I'm sorry…I'm sorry for being krenath."

"The circumstance of your birth," Sarek said, "is an embarrassment only to Spock. You are not accountable for your father's behavior."

"He was going to marry my mother," I said in his defense.

"He was betrothed to another," Sarek countered.

I knew all about T'Pring from Stokk. Something told me that Grandfather didn't know _why_ Father had turned from his betrothed to my mother. He didn't know the secret and I was not about to tell him.

And so Sarek went on to discuss my misconduct and my punishment—more and more discipline in my daily life. "You are spoiled," he said bluntly. (By whom? Father?) "You will no longer be indulged, but treated as any Vulcan child. In turn, you will behave as one. You know what is expected."

Yes, I know.

83 Belaar

Sarek, as with everything, has taken his resolution very seriously. These past days he's shown more interest in me than in all the time I've lived under his roof. It's as if he is grimly determined to apply his own childrearing methods and intends to make up for lost time. His hand grows heavier by the day. Not since my arrival on Vulcan have I felt so intimidated by him, though I try not to show it. I show very little of anything in Grandfather's presence.

I know there's been some conflict between Sarek and Amanda. She thinks he's taking Father's "strictest possible manner" far too literally. All of this is making me wonder about Father's boyhood. He must have struggled hard to please Sarek, to meet his rigid Vulcan standards, to win at best a cool and silent approval. Certainly there was never any warmth or praise. I think Sarek would view his son's humanness as a measure of potential failure—a weakness, a flaw to overcome. I'm sure he hoped for great things from his son, but expected nothing. I wonder if Sarek told him, like he tells me, "It is no shame to fail while trying your best". How nice if just once he would say, "I have every confidence in you."

I'm not saying that Sarek is a bad parent, only that he's a _Vulcan_ parent. And if Sarek doesn't understand Spock, he understands me even less.

88 Belaar

Today is my fourteenth birthday, since this date corresponds with the proper Earth calendar day. Here on Vulcan my birth date changes from year to year.

There was a message from Father, disappointingly brief and formal. But I suppose I should be grateful to hear from him at all, considering the trouble I've been in.

Great Uncle Sparn visited, but not for my benefit. I hadn't seen him since Sarek's return, and I can't say I missed the man. Gram says he was always cold toward Father, too, even when Spock was small. Strange, since they look so much alike. As for today, His Royal Deep Freeze eyed me with disapproval when he condescended to look at all. Gram tried hard to make up for it, but the day was joyless. No party, of course, and _not even a cake_. Tight-assed Sarek wouldn't allow it. Even so, I tried to hide my feelings and behave with proper "Vulcan decorum". But it was a good thing he couldn't read my mind without actually melding.

Later, when Grandfather took me aside, I foolishly hoped for some kind word. Was I ever mistaken! He informed me that he had been reviewing the matter of my education. As a result he has enrolled me in an exclusive school here in ShiKahr where I will "expand" my mind and "honor the family" by "application and adherence to the finest Vulcan traditions".

He saw the anger on my face and banished me here to my room until I can compose myself. I can't believe he would arrange my life without even consulting me. The Keporr Academy! If Sarek wants me to flounder in disgrace, he couldn't have made a better choice. He's probably hoping the endless studies will keep me out of trouble.

97 Belaar

School starts soon. I've gotten over the first shock of Grandfather's announcement, but I'm still not happy about it. I'm not Spock! As much as I try to please everyone, I just can't absorb knowledge like a Vulcan—and I don't want to. At times the Vulcan intellectual pride seems downright snobbish to me, a kind of racial superiority.

On orientation day several students looked down their noses at my hybrid features. It's obvious that I'm not entirely Vulcan. Father might have suffered similar pressures at this school, but at least he physically resembled his peers. Looking at him, no one could have guessed he was fully half human.

Wherever I go, I attract stares. My eyebrows aren't slanted enough. And of course there are these ears of mine—too pointed for human and too round for Vulcan. If I leave them uncovered, I always feel like people are staring at them. In one of my more desperate moments I asked Father about cosmetic surgery. He wouldn't even discuss it. I told him when I'm eighteen I can do what I want.

Autumn

1 Tasmeen

My entrance into Keporr Academy has become even more of a torment than I'd thought. Now I understand why Sarek and Amanda are so worried about scandal. For a so-called "private society", word sure travels fast and wide around here. Oh, grown Vulcans don't taunt or jeer, it's true, yet they still manage to convey their scorn in other ways. Silence. Icy looks. Raised eyebrows. Cleverly barbed phrases. This time, it isn't because of anything _I've_ done, but I'm still in the middle of it.

A newly published book has been made available at school. "Vulcans: Beyond Yatara". It's about Vulcans who have found some fame off their home planet. Among its unsanctioned biographical chapters is one of a man who is "becoming a legend in his own lifetime". Yes, you probably guessed it. My father!

Of course, I read it. The author blithely lists Spock as fathering no offspring, then devotes several lines to his former ward, the halfling Saavik. A mistake? The writer claims to have drawn much of her information directly from Starfleet records. I don't understand this. Father acknowledged me to his family in one small corner of Vulcan, a miserable dust hole called ShiKahr, an insignificant grain of sand on the shore of the universe, a place _he_ seems to avoid like a Vulcan plague. But in the records of Starfleet I don't exist. _Why?_

Saavik got plenty of Father's attention. If he's so fond of mixed breeds, why didn't he bother to enter my name in his service record? Because this particular breed is his own bastard daughter? A little too embarrassing? Or could it be that I'm not up to his standards?

What a sensation the book has created! No— _fascination!_ That's the word. There's a lot of discussion among the students at school. Opinion about the book's glaring oversight is divided. Is Spock a coward? Or is he simply a liar? Some say that logic indicates he is both. Meanwhile I grit my teeth and ignore them and write to Father demanding an answer. Damn you, go ahead, explain this one if you can!

4 Tasmeen

Sarek has been off-planet for days, so I still don't know his reaction to "Beyond Yatara". I imagine by now he's read it. Something tells me he won't be very pleased, either.

Gram picked up the book's oversight just like I did, but quickly, predictably, she took Father's side. Today we argued about it. She said I'm "oversensitive", that I'm "wallowing in self-pity". She said I'm always ready to think the worst of Father. I told her that I have good reason to think the worst of him—eleven lonely years worth of reasons. I called Father cold and selfish. That's when she slapped me. But I didn't cry. I barely even flinched. Later she came into my bedroom and quietly suggested that I might be happier completing my education on Earth. A boarding school, just like Father once suggested. She listed several reasons, but I know what was really behind it. That slap. As much as she loves and defends Father, she's scared that I'll slip away into some Vulcan mode, that gradually I'll become just as distant and restrained as him. When I can take a slap without tears, it's time to get me away from here.

I could not help thinking of Matt on Earth. I couldn't help being tempted. But I _do_ love Gram. For now she let the matter drop. She said I need to be more tolerant and forgiving, that Father is imperfect just like everyone else, and that he really does love me even if he has never used those words. "Wait and see," she said. "Give him a chance." Well, I'm still waiting…

7 Tasmeen

At school my instructors chide me because of my poor performance, and fellow students give me disdainful looks that are even harder to bear. Sarek is home now and plainly displeased by the school reports. It's not enough that I work my tail off and am obedient and carefully composed in his presence. But I'm trying to be patient with him. Between my poor schoolwork and "Beyond Yatara", this homecoming has not been easy for Grandfather. He must wonder if there will ever be an end to the difficulties surrounding Father and me.

After dinner Gram took me aside for a woman-to-woman talk. I had already known that Vulcans are mind-linked in a betrothal ceremony at age seven. Well, because of my background I have no husband waiting—a real rarity in this world of carefully arranged marriages. Gram explained that our family is part of an influencial clan, that despite the recent controversies, despite my mixed blood, there will be men anxious to align themselves with the family through marriage. "Preels", they are called—single people who have lost their intended mates for one reason or another. She told me that Sarek himself had once been a preel. His first wife released him from their bond and dedicated herself to the priesthood of Gol. Father had never mentioned that. Even more surprising, Gram said that I'm becoming "an attractive young woman" and Sarek had already been approached. But she assured me that Spock has no intention of sanctioning such a union. When I come of age I can make my own choice, Vulcan or human or whatever. So maybe Father _does_ care, after all.

10 Tasmeen

I wish I could have inherited more of Father's brains, at least enough to get by at this new school. My mother was very intelligent, too. She studied languages. Maybe that's why I've learned Vulcan so quickly.

12 Tasmeen

The wait is over. In his message Father said, "It is true that your name was not recorded in Starfleet files, but that in no way reflects unfavorably on you. It was a simply oversight on my part and has been corrected."

An oversight? By _Spock_? Sorry, I don't really believe it—and I told him so!

16 Tasmeen

Despite everything, interest in our family's affairs has died down. On campus Spock's name is seldom mentioned anymore. I'm just T'Beth, an outworlder scraping along in the hyper-intellectual world of Vulcans. At least in some ways, life has become easier. Now I wish I'd never sent Father that smart-alecky message. It was a childish thing to do. Of _course_ he makes mistakes—those old log tapes prove it. Everyone does.

Today I sat down and sent him a message of apology.

17 Tasmeen

Gram tries to help me with my studies, but I'm feeling mired down. She disapproves of the way Sarek keeps pushing me. All he does is complain about my lack of progress. Last night I heard them arguing about me again.

20 Tasmeen

It began as a very quiet evening. After dinner Sarek left the house on some errand. Gram looked tired. She sat me down to explain that Grandfather is going to Earth and she's going on the trip with him. While they're gone, I'll have to stay with Sparn's family.

Of course I objected. It hurt to think they would leave me behind, and with someone I don't even like! I'm back to visiting with my friend Rachel—the Perlmans live right here in ShiKahr—so why can't I stay with them, instead? I _know_ why—because Sarek doesn't want me to. And Gram wouldn't listen, either. In her sternest tone she said, "No more arguments. No tears, no tantrums. Accept it, T'Beth." But then she added more gently, "It won't be so terrible. Think of it as a vacation from school."

More like _them_ taking a vacation from _me!_ And I know why. It's because I'm causing trouble between Gram and Sarek. I always cause trouble.

21 Tasmeen

I did it again. I just couldn't leave well enough alone. Today I appealed to Grandfather. I begged to go with them or at least stay with the Perlmans instead of Sparn. I told him that Sparn's just waiting for a chance to get me. Sarek didn't like me talking about his brother that way. In the end he said, "Have you not earned Sparn's disapproval?" How could I answer that?

24 Tasmeen

They left this morning. I held my emotions carefully in check as Gram and Sarek boarded the starliner. Then Sparn turned to me and said, "Understand clearly that you are under my guardianship until their return. You will respect and obey me in all matters." Seeing my control crumbling, he warned, "Nor will I tolerate any outbursts. Conform to Vulcan standards of behavior or you will bear the consequences. In my home you will not be indulged."

25 Tasmeen

Tareel is a somber place. Sparn rules his household with a hand of iron. Living here, I must watch every step, every expression, every word. There's an iciness in Sparn that makes me shiver. It's like I told Grandfather. He's just waiting for some excuse to get me, I know it.

I'm lonely and I'm scared. I never thought I'd say it, but I actually miss school. At least there I could have found a few hours of relief from this place.

29 Tasmeen

Things aren't getting any better. Sparn constantly tries to provoke me, but I show him my Vulcan face—calm, impassive, obedient—while I'm really seething with resentment. Does he sense my real feelings? To resist Sparn is to resist stone. He makes Sarek seem almost warm and fuzzy.

32 Tasmeen

Sparn has a wife named T'Prinka who shows me some small kindnesses when her husband isn't around. Sparn also has two grown daughters who have given birth to more daughters.

I've always wondered how Sparn could look so much like Father, and yet be so different. I'm developing a theory about my great uncle. I think his antagonism has little to do with my mixed blood, or Father's. I think Sparn is embittered by a lifetime of living in the shadow of his illustrious younger brother—Ambassador Sarek. In Sarek's career and private life, he showed a dash of boldness Sparn could only envy as he drifted from one mundane occupation to the next. He failed in his early career as a teacher of Vulcan history, became a trillium merchant, and now dabbles in antiquities. While Sparn puttered around Vulcan, Sarek was out helping resolve galactic conflicts. Sarek even dared to take an alien as his second wife, a lovely human who gave him a gifted son. That in itself would be hard to take, but besides watching this talented nephew grow into adulthood, he had to see how much Spock looked like him. No recognition for Sparn, no honors, no son, not even a grandson. And now Spock has a Krenath daughter who by tradition even Sparn must accept. Knowing that I'm in Sparn's power chills me.

36 Tasmeen

Aren't Gram and Sarek ever coming home? Sparn holds me with a tyrant's grip. He's always studying me for any small sign of willfulness. If I stay out of his way, he says I'm secretive. If I'm quiet he calls me sullen. If I speak, then I'm impertinent.

I guess I'm learning that Spock hasn't been such a bad father in the time I've known him. He always urges me to meditate when things seem hard, to withdraw to some quiet place where I can calm my body and my mind. Lately I really have tried. In these quiet moments I sometimes imagine him nearby. It's almost as if a quick turn would find him standing there. My heart tells me that he's accepted my apology, but why haven't I heard from him? I bet Sparn is keeping his messages from me. I bet something else, too—that Sarek acted the way he did when Spock joined Starfleet because he was afraid Spock would take to drifting just like Sparn.

38 Tasmeen

I'm in my room at Sparn's house, crying. I hurt inside and out. I was right about him. I was right all along. This is what happened.

I was returning from an errand when Sparn met me at the door holding my diary. My blood ran cold as I remembered some of the things I'd written. He ordered me into his room and held the pages under my nose. It was his duty, he said, to see what I'd brought into his home. But never had he expected "such an abomination", even from me. "Disrespect and contempt, insolence and deceit." "You even cursed your own father." As if he really cared about _that!_

I couldn't believe that Sparn had invaded my privacy and snooped in my journal, the one precious corner that was all my own. I plainly told him so. After all, what did I have to lose? I openly accused him of spying, of hating me, of holding back Father's messages. It was probably the one thing Sparn had been waiting for—open defiance. I saw the satisfaction in his eyes as he gathered himself, quite composed, the calm before the storm. Reaching beside him, he picked up a wicked-looking sturpa. I hadn't even noticed it there, but at the sight of it I drew back. Sparn moved like lightning. His left hand closed over my arm and I began to struggle, but there was no escaping his strength. I sensed his cold pleasure as the first savage stroke lashed into me, and I cried out as no Vulcan ever would. There was a second blow, and a third. Full of rage and panic, I used the only weapon I had. The assault of my raw emotion crashed its way through Sparn's mental barriers, which I suspect were low at that point. He let go of me as if burnt. The agonized look on his face reminded me of the one time on my home world when I used the Feeling on my father, not realizing what it would do to a Vulcan.

A word hissed from Sparn, an ancient curse, perhaps. Nothing I recognized, nothing nice, I'm sure. Then shakily he said, "Go to your room. I will finish with you later."

I had the nerve to say, "I want my diary back."

There was something in his eyes that reminded me very much of Stokk, only matured and much deadlier. Need I say he kept my diary? I detest him!

39 Tasmeen

It's dawn. I'm on my own now, a runaway. I couldn't just wait around for Sparn to "finish" with me, and apparently T'Prinka agreed. Last night she slipped me the diary along with some food and advised me to seek refuge at the home of her friend. Well, I left alright, but I knew better than to follow T'Prinka's directions. One way or another, Sparn would have it out of her in a minute.

By now there'll be searching for me. I need someplace to hide. Not the Perlmans. For political reasons, they can't be drawn into this mess. I certainly can't go back to ShiKahr. That's the first place Sparn will look. I'm sore and tired and discouraged.

Midday now. I've been keeping to the shadows, out of the worst of the searing heat, and avoiding the public transportation depots where they might be watching for me. I ask for lifts on private vehicles and have never been refused. I've traveled from Tareel toward the edge of Vulcan's Forge. There at Mount Seleya I'll throw myself at the mercy of the old priestess, T'Lar. She is also of the house of Surak and clan Talek-sen-deen. A distant relative know for her logic and compassion. But will she even see me? I have to prepare myself for rejection, for capture, and the inevitable return to Sparn. Then he will surely finish with me.

Evening, and for now I'm safe. This afternoon a kind pilgrim bound for Seleya offered me a ride in her skimmer. Gratefully I climbed in beside her and tried not to think too far ahead. She offered me food, and though mine had run out, I couldn't eat much. My stomach was a little queasy and my muscles ached.

We came to the upper reaches of Mount Seleya at sunset. After thanking the pilgrim, I climbed up the remaining steps quickly, before I lost my nerve. By the time I found the priests' annex, I was completely worn out. A priest directed me to a computerized admittance door and I read the instructions. "State name," it said. Instead, my hand wavered over a keypad. Heart pounding, I entered some Vulcan letters and waited. Long minutes passed as the cold of night crept over the mountain. I was about to try again when a word appeared—"proceed"—and the door came open. I followed a dusky corridor to a cave-like anteroom. My legs went weak as a woman came out of the shadows and silently directed me to a second, larger chamber.

There sat T'Lar herself, white of hair, with black eyes that raked me over. "Come near," she ordered from her seat in a stern, commanding voice. I obeyed, all the while wishing that I hadn't assumed a false identity to get in.

"You used another's name," she accused. "Have you not one of your own?"

 _A bad beginning_. In Vulcan I told her, "I was afraid I would be turned away. You know Spock's name, but I was not sure if you would know his daughter. I am called T'Beth."

"Yes. T'Beth." T'Lar's voice was sharp, but she changed to the ancient, familiar form of address. "Thee have not always been a credit to thy family."

 _Oh great,_ I thought. Word had spread even to Seleya. Yet as my hopes fell, T'Lar indicated a cushion with a curt nod of her head. I sat on it cross-legged.

"Why has thee come?" she asked.

I recited my memorized speech. "I have heard, T'Lar, that the Vulcan way is one of respect and compassion for all living creatures. That a Vulcan will defend the helpless and shield the weak. Hearing this, and believing it, I have come seeking sanctuary."

T'Lar studied me in ominous silence. "The Vulcan way is also just. A rebellious child is punished. One who flees her family finds no sympathy. Thee have shamed thyself, T'Beth." T'Lar's eyes narrowed. "Thee bears thy father's mark. I see in you a shadow of him, but only a dim shadow."

Tears of disappointment overflowed. There would be no help from T'Lar. I would be promptly returned to Sparn and his ruthless brand of Vulcan justice—perhaps even tonight. "But Sparn will _beat_ me," I cried. And that's all I remember of that meeting.

Later, I woke up in some dusky, unfamiliar place, miserable beyond belief. A strange Vulcan woman was bending over me, giving me an injection. "Rest, daughter," she said softly, "you will soon be well." If I don't die first. I feel dizzy, weak, and achy. The thought of food disgusts me. When I try to get up, I become violently ill. So I lie here in bed, scribbling a little in my diary. Oh, this diary! The trouble it's caused! Now that I've had time to think about it, I can't help remembering the time Jim Kirk caught me snooping in _his_ private journal. No wonder he was so angry.

40 Tasmeen

This morning I dreamt that Father had returned. He plucked me from bed and I relaxed in the comfort and safety of his embrace. I awoke instead to find Sparn standing over me, as cold and menacing as ever. My heart lurched—but then I saw that we weren't alone. The Vulcan healer watched discreetly from the doorway.

Sparn spoke, his voice deep and tight with suppressed anger. "You might think you have done well, child, but Sarek will demand a full accounting on his return. There will be no asylum then. He will see that you bear the consequences of your outrageous behavior—and on that day you will also answer to me."

I said nothing, but my mind raced. _There will be no asylum then_. Does that mean I've really been granted sanctuary for now? I've been left alone to wait and wonder.

42 Tasmeen

I'm feeling a lot better. The healer T'Annel has let me get up, dress, and walk around the compound. I have so many questions, but T'Annel won't answer them. She'll only say that I had a virus and that I'm staying as a guest of T'Lar, who'll answer my questions soon.

43 Tasmeen

Today T'Lar summoned me back into her presence. This time she lifted a bony hand in Vulcan greeting and said, "Live long and prosper, T'Beth." I returned the gesture, spreading my fingers into the V sign and echoing the familiar words. Once again she directed me to the cushions.

She said, "Thy undisciplined nature may yet prove thy undoing. Sparn is rightly concerned. Yet…since thee are not truly Vulcan, it is illogical to bend thee to our way. Thee are not suited for it. Thee has thy own unique worth and must find thy own way in life." Her voice sounded weary as she continued, "The right to privacy is central to Vulcan society. As an elder I seldom intrude upon the affairs of my clan, and I do so now only after grave consideration. T'Beth, thee may remain here until thy grandparents return to Vulcan."

I left feeling as light as a feather.

44 Tasmeen

I spend my days in the instructional chamber of the compound, sparring with a computer T'Annel programmed for me. Most of my strength has returned. I wonder if T'Annel saw the bruises Sparn gave me? They've faded to pale but grim reminders of that terrible day in Tareel. By the time Gram comes home, all the physical evidence might be gone. What if T'Annel didn't notice them? What if there's no one to back up my story? Gram might side with Sparn. Sarek will—I have no doubt of that.

46 Tasmeen

Since yesterday I've felt so gloomy that I've hardly stirred out of my room. I can't seem to shake off this bad feeling. This is how I felt just before Mama left me aboard the Enterprise with a father who was a stranger to me. Just before Mama died. She was really my grandmother, but she's the one who raised me since Spock wasn't around. It hurts remembering. Everything hurts today. Maybe it's just worry over Sarek's return.

48 Tasmeen

The dark feeling only gets worse, as if something horrible it about to happen. I know it's coming, but when and from which direction?

50 Tasmeen

Today Gram came for me. I knew at once that something was terribly wrong. There was no mention of my living at T'Lar's compound or the reason for it. Not a word. And deep in Gram's eyes there was a look that scared me.

I asked, "Isn't Sarek back, too?" And she said, "No." That's all, no explanation. We didn't talk on the way home. Then, at ShiKahr, she sat me down and took my hand (hers were so cold!) and delivered the news. The words hurt worse than Sparn's sturpa. No, it's not possible, it had to be a mistake! Father dead? Not on a dumb training mission, he couldn't be! When Gram said there was no mistake, I started to sob. She wrapped me in her arms and soothed me as if I was a small, frightened child.

Everyone I love dies. Oh Father, it _can't_ be true! It can't!

51 Tasmeen

Gram and I are alone here. Sarek stayed on Earth to meet the Enterprise when it returns. He's hoping to save Spock's katra for return to the Hall of Ancient Thought. They say that Father's body was burned up in the atmosphere of some planet called Genesis. If that's so, then according to Vulcan belief his katra will slowly disintegrate. There will be nothing left of him. I don't understand this katra business, I never have. But before his death Father might have transferred his katra to a crewmember, most likely a close friend.

Gram wanders aimlessly through the day. I don't know how to help her—I can't even help myself. Why did this have to happen? I keep thinking of Father dying painfully, blind and isolated, with only Kirk's voice to comfort him. How could he do that to himself—to me? But if he hadn't made that sacrifice, they say he would have died anyway. Everyoneaboard ship would have died. It was an act of logic, an act of love. Gram says we should be proud of him, and I am. But I'm also angry. Father promised to come back. He promised!

54 Tasmeen

It's Father's birthday and a message arrived through Starfleet channels. We'd been expecting it. Admiral Kirk and the crew of the Enterprise offered their condolences. Father's friends, the people whose lives he saved. Kirk said, "It was a choice between the one and the many. Knowing he alone among the crew could brave the intense radiation, Spock freely and selflessly made that choice." Then Kirk added, "I would not have asked him."

For me there was a special message. "Always remember that Spock loved you deeply." I cried at that. If anyone knew Father's heart, it was his good friend Jim Kirk. And if, as Sarek suspects, Father's katra is in the admiral, Jim's words are all the more meaningful.

Along with the official Starfleet communication, there was another message for me. Doctor McCoy looked as if he'd been drinking. He said, "Grieve not, T'Beth. Soon I will be home. Tell your grandmother that I am coming."

I didn't tell Gram anything. I was too embarrassed.

55 Tasmeen

I'm trying hard to understand this thing called death. If it's so natural, why does it hurt so much? It hurts the people who are dying and the people who are left behind. Gram says that childbirth is natural and it hurts, too. That death is just another kind of passage. That makes sense to me, but where does that leave the idea of katra? The Vulcans say that unless Father's katra is enshrined in the Hall of Ancient Thought, it will wither away to nothing. I can't stand the thought of Father being totally gone out of existence, and I don't like the thought of his katra trapped in a little globe, either. I like Gram's idea of heaven best of all.

56 Tasmeen

Sarek sent us a message from Earth. He seemed so stiff and stoic, but I can tell that he's grieving for his son. Though he never entirely approved of Father's career in Starfleet, the fact that Father died so heroically would mean a lot to a Vulcan.

In the message Sarek assured me that my position in the family is secure, that he will now assume full responsibility for his son's krenath. To me that word will always mean "bastard". It wasn't what I wanted to hear from my grandfather. Maybe he meant to reassure me, but it's left me frightened, thinking of how different my life will be without Father.

57 Tasmeen

Thanks to Gram, I'm back at the Primary School with Rachel. All day I felt cool, curious Vulcan glances. The entire student body seemed subdued. My instructors extended their condolences for my loss. "It was a loss for all of Vulcan," they said. Everyone is so nice now that Father is gone.

Rachel never met Father and she's never lost anything closer than her pet dog, but she's being very kind and supportive.

58 Tasmeen

Even at this school, I'm having a lot of trouble concentrating. Gram says not to worry, that it's a natural part of grieving. As always she tries to tutor me, but all I can think of is Father and the mean things I said to him. How many of our days together did I waste? Now I can never make it up to him.

At night I dream. Sometimes I join Father somewhere outside the reactor room. I put my arms around his waist and try to hold him back. Then I wake up crying.

59 Tasmeen

To think I was embarrassed by Doctor McCoy's odd message! He wasn't drunk, after all. It was Father's voice I heard! Father reaching through Space to assure me of his continued existence.

Sarek was wrong. Spock's katra isn't in Admiral Kirk, it's in Doctor McCoy! And what's more, Father's burial tube has been found intact on the Genesis planet. Sarek has told Kirk that he must bring McCoy and Father's body to Vulcan at once. Father's katra will be enshrined and his ashes scattered in the traditional way.

60 Tasmeen

All day I've felt restless. It was the weather as much as anything else, and the turn of the season. The worst of the year's heat is over. Great black clouds gathered over ShiKahr and by midday lightening streaked from the sky. Then it actually started to rain! I stood on the porch while thunder rolled across the valley and the wind gusted, blowing sheets of rain southward. Inhaling the rare damp scent, I watched until the little storm spent itself and the clouds parted before the hot afternoon sun. Within minutes the ground baked dry. Soon the crimson sky was completely cloudless. It was at if the storm had never happened. It left me with a sad feeling.

61 Tasmeen

My dark mood continued all through the night and into morning, but when Gram took me on an early walk to the edge of town, the mood vanished. The sands had become an ocean of color—fragile blue and white flowers looked like foam on the beaches of Earth.

"I thought they'd be here," Gram said. "It was the rain and the autumn sun and the phase of T'Khut. They don't bloom very often. By afternoon, they'll be gone."

She was right. Their beauty shriveled under the sun. After school all that remained was a desolate tract of sand.

62 Tasmeen

Things come and go rather suddenly around here. Storm. Desert flowers. People. Maybe that's the nature of Vulcan. Maybe I shouldn't be surprised at anything in this strange land. Sometimes I hate it here. But at other times—the times of sand flowers and thunderclaps, the moments of unexpected and astonishing beauty—I love Vulcan fiercely. I'll never love this red land of mystery more than I do tonight.

I'm back at Mount Seleya. A lot of people have gathered down on the plain. Here at its summit a sacred, ancient ceremony is in progress. It is called the fal tor pan, or the refusion—a thing of legends. Father's katra won't be moved to the Hall of Ancient Thought because Kirk found Father's body _alive!_ I know it sounds crazy, but it somehow happened through the "rejuvenating effect" of the Genesis planet. McCoy still holds the katra. Now, by refusion, they hope to make Father whole again.

Gram and I are waiting and watching from the priests' compound. I can see the flickering torchlight circling the temple altars, and the two still forms lying on them. Father's body and McCoy. Between them stands T'Lar, her arms outstretched, fingertips touching their temples. I can see Sarek standing apart, waiting. And at the base of the temple steps are Kirk and his companions. The night is dark, the mountain air thin and cool. Can this really happen? Can Father really come back to me?

63 Tasmeen

Sometime during the long night I fell asleep in a guest chamber. It was light when I awoke. I hurried out and found the temple deserted, the stone altars empty. So it was over.

Back inside, I searched for Gram and Sarek among the people gathered in the passages, quietly talking. I heard Standard spoken, and turning, looked straight into a tired pair of blue eyes. "Bones!" I said, shocked at how weak he looked. I threw my arms around him and McCoy held me for a long, silent moment. I was too afraid to ask about Father.

A hand settled on my shoulder and I found Jim Kirk giving me a weary smile. "One heck of a night," he said, "wasn't it?"

I searched his face for signs of grief or happiness. "Spock," I said at last. "My father…is he…?"

"You mean you don't know?" Kirk asked. I was embarrassed to admit that I'd fallen asleep. On this most important of nights I had nodded off like a little kid.

Kirk took hold of my arms and gazed into my eyes. In a voice thick with emotion he said, "Your father is alive and well. The refusion was successful."

I think I grinned then. I remember crying a little, too, and laughing before the hurt settled in. Why didn't Gram wake me up? Why hadn't Father come to see me? I had been left out, passed over, forgotten.

Kirk must have guessed how I was feeling. He said, "Let me explain something. Spock is…well, not quite himself yet. Right now his memories are very clouded. He seems confused."

"Understandably," said McCoy. "You wouldn't believe the hash he made of _my_ brain."

"But you told me he was alright!" I said loudly. That's as far as I got before Gram showed up and caught hold of my hand. Without a word she hustled me straight back to the chamber where I'd slept. As the door shut I yanked free and said, "Quit treating me like a baby!"

"Then stop acting like one," she snapped. "I won't take any nonsense from you, not today!"

I'd never heard Gram use that tone before, and it got my attention. I managed to say, "What's wrong with my father?"

"Wrong?" Her voice quavered with emotion. "Yesterday Spock was dead. Today he's alive. What more could we ask?"

I turned and stared out the window. Tears streaming, I said, "He doesn't remember me—does he?"

"He barely remembers me," Gram said softly. "He remembers Admiral Kirk, just a little. At the foot of the temple Spock said his name. Jim."

"He _would_ ," I said sourly. Kirk had been with Father when he died. He heard Father's dying words. Kirk had risked everything to bring him here for the refusion. Of course Father would remember _his_ name. After all, _we're_ only _family!_ Miserable and jealous, I started for the door.

"Where do you think you're going?" Gram asked.

I told her I wanted to go home. I didn't want to see this new strange Spock—not there, not then, not like that. To my relief Gram took me back to ShiKahr and left Sarek at Seleya with the man they call my father.

67 Tasmeen

Life goes on. There are my studies and all the other ordinary routines to help pass the time, but I feel as if I'm living a bad dream. A few days ago I had a living father. Then I had a dead father. Now I have only pain and confusion, but at least I'm not alone in this. Gram feels the same way.

Since the fal-tor-pan Rachel seems to be avoiding me. It hurts, but I'm trying not to blame her. I'm no fun to be around, and with all this she probably thinks my family is pretty weird.

70 Tasmeen

What a day! After dinner I was playing log recordings in Father's computer. Gram had let me have the power pack. It was a quiet evening and after awhile my attention wandered back to those boxes in the closet. All those pieces of Father's life—he probably wouldn't even recognize any of them.

I was so busy looking at his things that—like before—I didn't hear the door open. He might have been standing there a long time before I sensed a presence and turned—and came face to face with my father! I gasped. I scrambled to my feet, clumsily upsetting the contents of a box. Everything spilled out.

Spock watched the awkward performance with a look of bewildered fascination. The look I gave _him_ was plain shock. We just stood staring at one another. For me, it was the reality of his physical presence, the life radiating from his every pore. All I could think was, _Oh my God, he really_ _is_ _alive!_ There was nothing of the Starfleet officer about him. He wore a cream-colored robe and his hair was shaggy, but he was hardly the zombie-like shell I had imagined.

A part of me wanted to rush over and throw my arms around him. Instead, I slowly walked up and touched his shoulder. He felt warm and solid.

"You are T'Beth," he said in an uncertain voice. "Sarek spoke of you. He said you are my daughter."

My heard sank. He didn't recognize me at all, but I could see how difficult that was for him. I could tell that he _wanted to._ "It's alright," I said. "There are a few things I'd rather you not remember, anyway." At that he raised an eyebrow. "I don't know what they've told you, but I haven't always been a model daughter."

Had I said the wrong thing? Frowning, he turned and glanced impatiently around his room. I thought he was through with me, and mumbling an excuse, I edged toward the door. I had gone no more than two feet when he whirled back and said, "Stay—please. Do not be afraid. I have so many questions."

His brown eyes looked tormented. Though Father didn't know me, at that moment he _needed_ me—only me. We sat down and talked for a long time. One question led to another, and I did my best to satisfy him, to fill that aching void I sensed within him. I told him some of my mother's story—things I knew from her diary and other things he had told me. I described our first meeting with I was eleven and burning with resentment toward the strange Starfleet captain claiming to be my father. I spoke of the good times and the bad times, and of the bond that had been slowly growing between us. It was late when Father finished with me. He looked drained. I know I was. I practically stumbled over my feet as I went to my room.

A little later Gram found me in bed writing this and searched my face anxiously. "Well?" she asked. "Did he recognize you?"

"No," I said, but he tried to, he really did." And that means a whole lot to me.

71 Tasmeen

My room is right next to Father's. Late last night I heard the drone of low voices on the other side of the wall. Father and Sarek were talking. I lay in bed wondering what they were discussing, but before long I fell back to sleep.

Sometime later I was jolted awake. Heart pounding, I sat up and listened in the darkness. Then it came again—an anguished sound that sent shivers up my spine. _Father?_ My first impulse was to dive under the covers and hide. But what if he needed help? I made myself go into his room. By the light from the hallway, I could see him twisting and turning on his bed, still asleep. Scared, I went over, took hold of his arms, and gave them a shake. "Father," I said softly, "Father, wake up."

He went still and opened his eyes. I could feel his muscles relaxing under my fingers, so I let go. "Was it a bad dream?" I whispered.

He sat up and buried his face in his hands. We were so near. I was still a little afraid, but not like before. I turned on a small lamp and closed the door. Then I went back over and sat next to him. After a moment he lowered his hands and looked at me with a depth of feeling that took my breath away. I knew what had happened. I knew he remembered me.

"There was time," he said softly, "when I came to _your_ room. You were frightened by the prospect of life here on Vulcan…"

"My first night!" I said.

He nodded, looking very pleased with himself. "It is as if a door has opened in my mind. How could I have forgotten?"

I was so happy! Hugging him hard, I pressed my cheek against his shoulder and began to sob. Hardly appropriate Vulcan behavior, but I didn't care and he didn't seem to mind much, either. Then I curled up in a chair by his bed and we quietly talked until I fell asleep.

This morning, breakfast was already under way when Father and I came to the table. A strained look passed between Sarek and Amanda as greetings were exchanged. We sat and Father began to fill our bowls with tralorc.

"T'Beth," Gram said slowly, "I looked in your room early this morning. You weren't there. I waited for some time…"

Something told me that this was not about sneaking out of the house. No, this was worse. This was about breaking a rigid Vulcan taboo. I felt as if I'd been caught doing something terrible, and the feeling made me angry—as much for Father's sake as my own. I was about to explain about Father's nightmare, but I had to choose my words very carefully. I never had a chance.

"She spent the night in my room," Spock said openly. I nearly fell off my chair. Gram shot me a scathing look. Sarek went still as stone.

"I see," said Grandfather. "Of course, Spock, you did not realize that such a thing was improper." He then proceeded to explain in delicate language the rules governing a Vulcan's bed area and its use, especially in the dark hours and with a daughter beyond nursery age. I felt so sorry for Father. I wanted to jump up and shout, "Leave him alone! All your nitpicky rules make everything sound dirty! It wasn't like that at all!" But somehow I held onto my temper, even when Sarek pointed out that _I_ had learned those rules of behavior and was therefore culpable.

Beside me, Father waited with impossible patience until Sarek was finished speaking. Then he stood up and said, "Do not blame the child. During the night a portion of my memory was restored—largely those areas dealing with family—and yes, rules of conduct regarding family life. But T'Beth is not Vulcan. She came to me in the night when I needed her. I would not send her away when she needed me." And he walked out.

So much for breakfast. It should have been a joyous occasion with Father recovering so many memories, but along with the old Spock comes the same old family problems.

75 Tasmeen

Tomorrow Father goes back to Seleya. I know this is something he needs, but I'll sure miss him. Gram will, too. And Sarek? Well…last night he brought up the sore subject of my education. No matter what Sarek thinks of Father's mental capacity, he can't force me back to Keporr without first consulting him. And Father has made it quite clear that I'm not to be moved until my instructors say I'm completely ready. Since fal-tor-pan I think he's become more understanding of academic struggles.

Perhaps in retaliation, Sarek insisted that I go to school today, even though I wanted to spend every last minute with Father. Of course I did as I was told—until I was sure Sarek had left for his appointment in ShanaiKahr. Then I slipped away from school and went back home. Gram was busy in the house tutoring a child. Tiptoeing along outside, I came upon Father. He was seated on a stone bench in a shady area of the back garden. There was no sign of reproach in his eyes when he saw me. Even so, I felt a little guilty. "I had to be with you," I said, sitting down in the sand at his feet.

"You _wanted_ to," he gently corrected. "Your grandfather will be displeased."

" _You're_ my father," I grumbled, "not him." I knew it was the wrong thing to say.

"You are living in Sarek's home," Spock reminded me unnecessarily. "And both Sarek and I put a high value on education."

I said, "I know education is important and I do try to study—but the subjects just aren't very exciting."

That raised his eyebrows. And what subject, he asked, would I find "exciting"? I thought for a long moment. Then cautiously I said, "There _is_ one subject. It's something you know about, Father. Something maybe only you can teach me." I could see that he was interested. Taking a deep breath, I said, "It's about death."

Spock immediately looked so uncomfortable that I regretted opening my mouth. He told me, "I was speaking of academic subjects."

I might have let the matter drop, but he surprised me by asking what it was that I wanted to know. So I went ahead. "What was it that gave life to your body before your katra was returned to it? Gram says it was your soul—that the katra's just a bunch of memories. But Grandfather says there _is_ no soul. How can that be? Don't Vulcans have souls that go to heaven?"

Father got a pained expression. "Those are not the questions I would expect from someone who does not like to study."

"I'm not stupid," I protested. "Back on Ildarani I always did well in school."

"Ildarani," he said thoughtfully, as if his memories of that colony world were still cloudy. "The move to Vulcan must have been difficult for you."

I admitted that sometimes I miss Ildarani. "But now I have you," I told him. "That's way better."

Father gave me a fond look. "And I am glad to be back with you, T'Beth-kam."

My smile was cut short by the sound of the back door opening. Like a fugitive, I shrank down close to the ground, but it was too late. Gram's sigh made it quite clear that she had seen me. "There are people in this household," she announced, "who do not think well of truancy."

Spock motioned for me to stay down. Turning to Gram he said, "I beg your indulgence, Mother, for this one final day. Tomorrow I will return to my lessons on Mount Seleya."

I nearly burst out laughing, but for once Gram acted more Vulcan than Father. In a stern voice she called me inside. It seemed she had overheard some of my conversation. She said, "Don't you realize what your father has been through? If you really want to know about such things, come to me or your grandfather."

"But I have, and you two disagree," I reminded her. Father's the one who died. He'd know better than anyone."

"He doesn't remember," Gram said before sending me back to school.

I can't help wondering if that is really true.

79 Tasmeen

Everyone got up early this morning. Sarek wanted to accompany Father to Seleya. There were footsteps in the hall, quiet voices, a feeling somewhere between excitement and heartbreak. I wanted to go along, too, but I didn't dare ask because of yesterday's truancy. I made my goodbye to Father as outwardly calm as any Vulcan—except for the tears in my eyes.

Gently he said, "When my sessions at Seleya are at an end, we will visit Ildarani together."

His words were so unexpected, so warm and thoughtful, that I forgot all about holding in my emotions and gave him a hug.

Sarek's frosty voice broke in. "T'Beth. See that you remain at school today and return home promptly. We will have a guest."

In a heart-pounding flash of intuition, I thought of Sparn. The ominous look in Sarek's eyes told me I had guessed correctly, that he knew something of what had happened in his absence and he was not about to let the matter slide.

And so he took Father away and left me to worry. Before school, I left the house with my diary and headed to the edge of town. All alone, I watched Epsilon Eridani rise and put its crimson stain upon the distant hills. A moment later its heat was flaming into me. So much has happened these past months, so many new experiences—some bitter, some strange, some wonderful—and I had weathered them all. But what will today bring? And tomorrow? If only I knew the answer…


End file.
